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CHAPTER FOUR

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I wake up before my alarm goes off and feel like I drank a fifth of vodka.

The fatigue hangover is strong but I stand by last night’s statement: I won’t stop my life because of this.

My workplace needs me to speak to clients, do intakes and answer donor questions.

The world isn’t going to stop because I had a terrible night. Well, not all terrible.

I put on a giant sweatshirt and slide into my house slippers. Tyson is still asleep, my traitor of a cat lays on his pillow glaring at me with his vibrant green eyes.

“Good morning, Beeze. Breakfast?” He stands and stretches, revealing his giant puff of a tail that was tucked beneath him.

We meet at the kitchen counter where I pop a pod into my Nespresso machine and serve him his meal. He has the tiniest meow in thanks which always makes me giggle. Beelzebub is a Maine Coon. He’s a massive black cat with the smallest meow.

I scratch his back as he dives into his dish as the scent of fresh coffee invades my senses and awakens me immediately. That first sip always makes me think that all of life’s problems will be solved before I reach the bottom of the cup.

Tyson stirs on the pull out couch and slowly opens his eyes.

Downside of open concept places: zero privacy.

He flashes me a sleepy smile causing me to feel like I have a mosh pit of butterflies in my stomach.

I fumble my cup and clear my throat, quickly wiping up the spilled wakey juice before he notices.

No one ever described me as graceful, today is no exception.

“Morning, beautiful. Sleep well?” Tyson asks, making me blush.

“Not enough but not afraid. You?” I smile to him and pull a second cup from the cupboard behind me.

He slowly gets out of bed and I realize that he isn’t wearing a shirt. Something tells me that I should look away but my brain fully malfunctions. I’m caught up on his muscles, the light dusting of chest hair he has, his treasure trail…. I shake my head when he notices me staring at him.

“Um… Coffee? I’ll make you a coffee.” I’m flustered and embarrassed as he walks towards me.

“Coffee would be great, thanks. Like the view?”

I drop my used coffee pod on the marble counter under me and giggle like an idiot, “Sorry. I apparently forgot to plug my brain in for a software update last night. Minor malfunction. And yes, you’re definitely nice to look at.

But I’m sure you know that already, right?

” I clean up yet another mess and feel his arm on my lower back.

“Feeling’s mutual. I don’t think about how I look one way or another. You’ll find pretty quickly that I’m not cocky.” I catch his eyes over my shoulder and fill with new, pleasant sensations.

I have yet another mental shut down, unsure of what to say as I pass him his coffee cup. He kisses my forehead and sips the black coffee, causing me to shiver. “Gross. You drink black coffee?” I come across far more judgmental than I mean to.

He smiles again, “I’d rather taste a good coffee than thirty flavor additives and fifty pounds of sugar that mask the taste.”

“I’ll keep my artificial shit, thank you very much. I need coffee to function but I also don’t like it enough to drink it black.” We sit at the kitchen table as Beeze snakes himself around Tyson’s legs.

“Affectionate little fella, isn’t he?” He says.

I shake my head between gulps of coffee, “Beeze is super sweet with me but he usually hates people, especially men. Apparently there’s something about you.”

Tyson touches my hand on the table, “Yeah, I get that feeling. Something special, for sure.”

I squint my eyes at him, “Something tells me you’re not talking about my cat.”

A real, deep laugh leaves his perfect lips. “You’re not so good with picking up cues, huh? No, I’m not talking about the cat.”

I blush again and my alarm goes off, letting me know that I have to be at my computer in twenty minutes. “Shit! I have to get ready! I’m so sorry, feel free to hang out but I have to slap a face on, do my hair and put real clothes on.”

“I like the face you’re wearing. Do you keep others in your bedroom?” I see a sly smirk on his face and can’t help but giggle.

“Makeup, dork! I need makeup. I didn’t sleep enough to be without makeup in front of clients today. I’ll be back, chill out I guess? Unless you have to go?” I hope he doesn’t but I get that he might.

He shrugs, “It’s Saturday. I should go relieve my buddy soon. He was probably up all night with Java. Other than that, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

Relief takes over me and I smile sweetly, “Well. Perfect. I’ll be back.”

I scurry into my bedroom to make myself as presentable as possible in twenty minutes.

Tyson’s voice carries through my loft as he speaks to Beeze about his plans for the day and how he thinks he’ll be friends with Java.

I quiet my movements to listen into their private bro chat with the biggest grin on my face.

It’s rare to find a guy who doesn’t hate cats.

This guy has to have a flaw somewhere. So far, I’m just seeing positives.

I finish getting ready for the day and run to my computer desk to switch my phone on while I wait for my system to power up. Tyson folded the sofa back in and took a seat with Beeze on it. He’s across the man’s lap purring so loud that I’m actually sure my clients will hear him.

“Traitor,” I whisper as I answer the first phone call of the day. “Thank you for calling Wildwood Animal Rescue, how can I help you today?” I fight to keep a straight face and professional tone knowing my date from last night is perched behind me.

“Hi, thank you so much for picking up my call. My name is Linda and I own a small farm about ten miles from your rescue. It’s taken a lot for us to call.

My husband and I are getting on in years, we’re looking at going to a retirement home and giving up what we have.

It’s so hard to take care of ourselves these days let alone the animals we have.

Someone in a local group suggested that we call you kind folks. ” An elderly woman explains.

“Hi, Linda! I’m so sorry this is a consideration for you. It’s such a hard decision. What animals do you have and how many of each? I just want to be sure that I have the space for them before I can say for sure that we can help.”

“We have two donkeys, four horses, a dozen pigs and ten hens. They’re wonderful animals, perfect temperaments. Even my grandkids can come around and spend time with them. But no one wants to actually help us keep them,” I can hear the sorrow in her voice.

“I’m so sorry, Linda. May I meet with you this afternoon? We do have space for them all right now but I’d also like to discuss other options.” I see a future for her animals that she likely hasn’t considered.

“Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you very much, dear.” I can hear the gratitude in her voice.

“Not a problem at all! Can you please send me an email with your address? I’ll plan to meet you around one o’clock.

Email address is [email protected].

” My company has a strict policy that we aren’t to attend any residence without imputing the addresses into their system for safety and tracking.

“Oh, yes of course. I’ll do that now. Thank you so much, Miss Brooks. We look forward to meeting with you.”

Linda and I exchange pleasantries and hang up. I move to look for my blue light glasses but they’re nowhere in sight. “Ugh, for fucks sake!” I inadvertently tell, forgetting for a moment that Tyson is right behind me.

“What’s wrong?” He seems concerned.

“Sorry. I always wear blue light glasses when I’m on the computer. I get ocular migraines and the glasses help immensely. But they aren’t where I left them, they’re always on my desk.”

He hums and stands from the sofa, giving me an excellent view of his still-shirtless body. Good gracious, this man is delicious. I watch him walk around the open space and feel like a feral cat ready to pounce.

He stops moving but I’m still enjoying his abs until I hear him clear his throat. “You.. Um.. Got a little..” Tyson smirks and pretends to wipe something off the side of his mouth.

“Can’t help it. You’re mouthwatering. Thanks for the company. It’s really making the day so much better,” I’m not sure what version of myself is speaking. Suddenly I’m bold and confident when not talking about work? No. Not me, couldn’t be.

Tyson walks over to me and presses his chest against mine, “I’m a big fan, too. Thanks for letting me pretend that I’m protecting you when I really just wasn’t ready for the night to end.” He kisses my forehead and I swat his bare chest.

“Here I was thinking you were all about saving the damsel in distress. Imagine my shock in learning you’re only here because of my looks,” I feign disappointment and it makes Tyson laugh.

“Do you know how rare it is to find a woman who’s openly herself? I have a feeling you’re a wild one. And I can’t wait to see if that instinct is true,” he touches my chin gently with his thumb, guiding my lips to his until we meet.

My lips melt into his as he kisses me like he’s been starved for my touch. His tongue pushes between mine, we battle for dominance that I’m sure I won’t earn. I’ve never been kissed like this before, my mind goes blank, falling into the feeling of his body against mine.

My ringing phone stops us just as his hands wander up my back and I break off the kiss with an irritated huff. “Work shit. I’m sorry.”

He strokes my arm as I turn away to answer the phone, “You apologize a lot for someone who hasn’t done anything wrong.”

I smile, “Thank you for calling..”

My usual shtick turns into a call about some abandoned kittens that our team needs to collect.

I stare into the computer screen, already feeling the effects of the harsh light already.

The information for pickup is available on the screen to any team who can get to the dump site after five minutes of fucking with the form.

My eyes start to get blotchy so I stand up and work my way to the kitchen for a glass of water with Beeze on my heels.

“You okay, Pixie?” Tyson follows us but I can’t make out his facial expressions at all.

“I’m fine. I really need my glasses. Ocular migraines, they’re triggered by screens. I feel completely normal I just can’t see very well. Water usually helps.” I feel like an idiot. The best kiss I’ve ever had is immediately followed by my body deciding that it doesn’t function properly.

“Shit, that’s not good. I’ll look harder, okay? Can I do anything?” I don’t need to see his face to know that he’s worried.

I shake my head, “They usually pass in about an hour. I’ll let my boss know that I’ll be offline until it subsides. Really, I’m good. This is pretty normal for me.”

I sip a glass of water and active the voice commands on my phone to text my boss, letting her know that I’m away from the phone for an hour. She knows the drill at this point and even asks where my glasses are. I tell her that my house was broken into overnight and she immediately calls me.

“Cass, what the fork?” Miranda never swears, she replaces cuss words with standard ones.

“I’m fine, Miranda, promise. Some shit is missing but I’m good. The police have as much evidence as they can. I just need an hour to get my eyes right. I’m meeting with an intake this afternoon.” I do my best to keep her at ease and stop her from giving me time off.

“Okay, well I’m big mad at you for not telling me what’s going on but I trust you. I’ll have the phones covered until I hear from you. Feel free to take the rest of the day but I won’t say no if you want to jump back in, we’re swamped.”

I stop my boss before she can keep the conversation going knowing that I just need an hour of peace. Tyson stomps into the kitchen with something clattering in his hand. I try to focus on whatever it is but I just see blotches in my direct line of vision.

“Found part of your glasses. They were broken in your pillow case. We must have missed the shards in the rest of the chaos.” His voice is tense.

“I’m… Nope. I won’t apologize again. But I will say that you didn’t sign up for this.” I fight with myself, pushing for a reminder that Tyson did choose to be here.

“I’m going to find out who did this to you, trust me on that. I’ve got you,” his words offer me comfort as my phone buzzes in my hand of the private number.

I grunt at the audacity, “Hello?”

Silence on the other end.

“Hello? Did your guts to call me just book a one way ticket to Antarctica?” I rub my eyes and hear Tyson chuckle quietly.

“It’s me. Are you okay?” I hear Ben’s voice through my cell.

“Living the dream. I’m in the middle of something though. Can we talk later?” I’m still salty about his stupidity last night.

“Cass, your building is all over the news. I just want to know that you’re okay.”

“My.. My what? I never told you where I live.” I blink, seeing the dark spots that blocked my vision clearing.

“Are you okay?” Ben puts emphasis on his question, avoiding mine, as Tyson shifts uncomfortably beside me trying to catch my eyes.

I look to him trying to find a way to tell him that I know who tore my home apart. “I’m all kinds of good. It was a neighbor.”

“Oh. That’s good, then. How was your date?” I can hear anger in his voice.

“Can we talk about this later? I’m working and have to meet a client soon,” it takes everything I have to keep a level head.

“Fine, ruin my day. Call me later.” Ben hangs up abruptly and leaves my heart racing. He’s never acted this way before.

“Who has the nerve to make you all anxious and shit?” Tyson asks.

“Just Ben. We met online a few years ago and we’ve talked almost daily for the past while. He’s just a friend but I have a feeling that our date pissed him off.” I explain as best I can.

He’s quiet for a minute, “Any chance he’s the one who trashed your apartment?”

I shake my head, “He doesn’t know where I live. We’ve never met in person.” I trip on my words. He said he saw my place on the news. He does know where I live, but how?

“Do you know how easy it is to find someone’s address?” Tyson is noticeably frustrated.

“I’m wrong, he knows. I just have no clue how. That’s why he called, he saw the news story.” My anxiety skyrockets, thinking over every interaction I’ve ever had with this man.

Tyson clenches his jaw, “Call the police, let them know that we have a suspect.”

I do as he says, speaking with Detective Holt who was assigned to my case. He asks me to meet but I explain that it will have to wait until after my other scheduled meeting. He isn’t pleased about it but accepts.

Tyson plans to meet me back here once I’m done my outings and says he’s bringing Java with him. It’s comforting but also feels like overkill. If this was Ben, he’s harmless. I think. Granted I’ve never met the guy in person but he really can’t be dangerous, can he?

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